


The One Where Kim Dongyoung Supervises the New Guy

by Noruway



Series: We're So Super, Hey [1]
Category: K-pop, NCT (Band), WAYV
Genre: Actually That’s Not True, Alternate Universe - Superheroes/Superpowers, Doyoung is So Done, Everyone Is Gay, Explicit Language, Fluff and Angst, Kim Dongyoung | Doyoung-centric, Lee Donghyuck | Haechan is a Brat, M/M, Minor Character Death, Sicheng is So Done, Tags Subject to Change, Ten has some issues right now but dw, background nomin, it physically pains me to write nomin w/o renjun, jungwoo is a pure bab and doyoung is soft, kun is tired, markhyuck's endless bickering, more ships exist but i only tagged those relevant to this fic, some are bi/ace, taeyong is s t r e s s e d, the violence really isn’t all that graphic, universe inspired by My Hero Academia
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-27
Updated: 2020-06-30
Packaged: 2021-03-01 23:28:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 12,496
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23725348
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Noruway/pseuds/Noruway
Summary: Sometimes, Dongyoung really, really hates being an agent in NCT. Having to babysit their newest recruit is just another reason to want to quit.Too bad he loves the other members (read: Moon Taeil) too much to leave.
Relationships: Chittaphon Leechaiyapornkul | Ten/Suh Youngho | Johnny, Kim Dongyoung | Doyoung & Kim Jungwoo, Kim Dongyoung | Doyoung/Moon Taeil, Kim Jungwoo/Wong Yuk Hei | Lucas, Liu Yang Yang/Xiao De Jun | Xiao Jun, Minor or Background Relationship(s)
Series: We're So Super, Hey [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1708885
Comments: 5
Kudos: 59





	1. Chapter 1

Sometimes, Dongyoung really, _really_ hates being an agent at NCT.

Not all the time. After being recruited to the government-funded agency nearly three years ago, he can confidently say that his life has been nothing short of remarkable. He’s bonded with the other nineteen active members to a point that he considers them family. Dongyoung had even met his current boyfriend through this line of work, and he feels grateful for everyday he gets to work alongside him.

Truthfully, he hadn’t expected to find work so easily after graduating university. Thousands, literally _thousands_ of students majored in fields that involved law enforcement in the hopes of joining one of the many divisions of the government that worked to subdue powerful criminals.

Some would go on to become police officers. Most would accept ordinary jobs after realizing their degrees and years of studying meant nothing to the officials that reviewed their applications.

Dongyoung had been preparing to apply for a position in a mailroom at a small business that happened to be hiring, when he received a call from a recruiter at NCT. Apparently, his power was unique enough to be considered an asset. He accepted the job immediately.

But, again, sometimes he hates being an agent here.

Case in point:

As he stands in the middle of the conference room, papers and various elements whizzing past his head, listening to the frustrated screams of the other members as they argue with each other, Dongyoung rubs his forehead to soothe the inevitable headache that’ll soon develop.

Last week, their 127 unit had been assigned a mission that had involved locating and eliminating a gang that had formed just north of Seoul. Per usual, they succeeded in capturing the existing gang members and planned on just sending them off for federal imprisonment. None of them had a problem with this.

Except, they were informed by SM— the government branch in charge of their agency— that one of the members had traded information for freedom, and as such, this person would be joining NCT in lieu of being locked up.

Following the news, there have been countless meetings regarding how they’d handle the new member’s integration. Productive is not a word Dongyoung would use to describe said meetings.

In the hopes of keeping things civil, only senior agents are allowed to participate, though this hasn’t mitigated the ensuing chaos. See, the problem with having eight people decide what to do with the former gang member entering their ranks is that it’s all too easy for them to be split down the middle.

_Damn_ Sicheng for skipping out and leaving then without a tiebreaker.

Half of the group wants to integrate him just like any other recruit, whereas the other half just wants to stick him in an office and never let him out into the field. Dongyoung happens to fall in the former half, which puts him on the receiving end of Ten’s colorful insults, Jaehyun’s paper balls, and Yuta’s death glares. Johnny hasn’t been as hostile as the others, and Dongyoung highly suspects that he’s only on the other team to get back into his boyfriend’s good graces.

Granted, those on his own side haven’t been any less aggressive. 

Kun has been engaged in a heated argument with Ten in Mandarin since the meeting began. Taeyong’s stolen Jaehyun’s telekinesis to keep him from hurling any object bigger than a paper ball across the long table, thus making him the other’s primary target. 

And Taeil is in the middle of an intense staring match with Yuta. No words, only staring. He feels like he may be incinerated if he gets between them, so he stays back and lets his boyfriend be.

“You know,” Johnny speaks from beside him, both overseeing the mess that is the conference room, “we could probably sneak out without getting caught.”

Dongyoung snorts. Johnny isn’t wrong, but it’s been days, and something needs to get done. “Right, that will _definitely_ make Ten stop sulking.” Johnny’s shoulders slump as he exhales a sigh of defeat. Dongyoung spares him a sympathetic pat on the back.

“Maybe we should just force Sicheng to come in and break the tie,” he suggests, and the taller nods in agreement. “I’ll go get him after the break.”

“ _Asshole!_ ” He recognizes the loud curse that flies from Kun’s mouth, just before the man stomps out of the room. Because he’s a good friend and absolutely not as a way to escape that hellhole, Dongyoung follows.

The air outside of the conference room is significantly less suffocating, and he takes a deep breath of appreciation. In no hurry to return, Dongyoung leisurely strolls down the hall towards the second floor’s kitchen, where he assumes Kun must be.

NCT’s headquarters isn’t particularly flashy on the outside. After all, it is located in a quiet suburban area, so if it appeared like anything other than an ordinary office building, residents surrounding it would probably complain. The interior is simple and classy, holding all the amenities required to house the twenty members, as well as offices, conference rooms, and state of the art technology at their disposal whenever missions are assigned.

Dongyoung peeks through the archway into the kitchen, his eyes landing on Kun’s form slumped over a counter. Silently, he rests his elbows on the counter beside him and nudges the man’s shoulder.

“You good?” Dongyoung mentally facepalms for not being more articulate.

Kun lifts his head, and he can feel the exhaustion radiating from him in waves. Dongyoung frowns but supposes it makes sense. Being an empath stuck in a room with so much stress and anger, especially multiple days in a row, must be mentally draining.

Dragging a hand through his blonde hair, Kun offers a strained smile. “Good as I can be.” He huffs, fiddling with the stem of an apple in a woven fruit basket. “I didn’t mean to curse.”

Dongyoung rolls his eyes. “No one cares if you curse. Despite what everyone says, you’re not our _actual_ mom.”

Kun’s smile becomes a bit more genuine, just the barest hint of a blush coloring his cheeks. “Still. I think Ten’s frustration is getting to me.” He turns so that his back is pressed against the counter, crossing his arms. “I mean, everyone’s emotions are exhausting, but Ten… you know.”

He laughs in response because, yeah, _he knows._

Ten’s emotions are easily stronger than everyone else’s in that room combined. The man is passionate, and that’s great when he’s putting energy into training or having fun. But it’s truly exhausting when he gets riled up about something. He’s too stubborn to concede, and that only causes him to get more worked up and aggressive. Dongyoung doesn’t understand how Johnny handles it whenever they argue.

“Why don’t you just calm everyone down?” Dongyoung suggests, to which Kun merely shakes his head.

“I can’t just go around messing with people’s emotions, no matter how unpleasant they may be.”

Dongyoung gets the sentiment, truly, but he wishes that Kun would set aside his morals just this once so that he could avoid his growing headache.

Sighing loudly, Dongyoung pushes himself upright and grabs a shiny red apple, the weight a comforting presence in his palm. He squeezes, watching the fruit phase into yellow, then green, its shape rounding out as he reverts its age. He tosses the now-green apple to Kun, who fumbles a bit before catching it.

“I’m gonna go find Sicheng. We’re not getting anywhere and I’m sick of all the yelling.” 

The yelling, the cold shoulders, the pettiness that’s leaked outside of the conference room— Dongyoung hates how this debate has affected their group. Even those who haven’t taken part in the meetings can feel the tension, though none know anything about the issue being debated.

Kun stares longingly at the apple in his hands. “Yeah. I should probably go back before Ten and Jaehyun give Taeyong an aneurism.”

Dongyoung grimaces. “Rest, Kun. Our leader can handle them for now.”

With that, he exits and attempts to seek out their missing senior member.

  
>>><<<  
  


“ _Suck it,_ Jisung!”

Chenle’s high-pitched screech echoes from the third floor common area down the corridor. Dongyoung huffs pitifully, musing on the fact that he left one mess only to walk right into another. At least this one is more fun than violent.

Poking his head around the corner, Dongyoung barely has time to react when a powerful gust of wind knocks him flat on his back. Spots color his vision, and he chooses not to dwell on the irony of this turn of events.

“Hyung!” Jisung’s worried face comes into focus above him, his hand extended. “Sorry, hyung. That was meant for Chenle.”

Dongyoung groans but accepts the offered hand, allowing Jisung to hoist him to his feet. He brushes invisible dirt from his pants, while their youngest links elbows with him and drags him into the common area to join the others.

Aside from Jisung and Chenle, who had apparently been engaged in a heated round of Mario Kart, seated on the leather couch are Renjun and Sicheng. The younger is fast asleep, tucked into Sicheng’s side as the latter scrolls through his phone. Since the third floor is designated for NCT’s Dream unit, Dongyoung expects to see Jaemin and Jeno milling around somewhere, but the pair are nowhere to be found. 

Not that he’s concerned about their whereabouts at the moment, anyways, but it might’ve been nice to see his favorite junior (though he will never admit that Jeno is his favorite, especially not around the other Dreamies).

A head of mint-colored hair whizzes past him, shoving Jisung to the side and crushing Dongyoung in a suffocating hug.

“Doyoung-hyung!” Chenle yells directly in his ear, and Dongyoung has to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from expressing his annoyance. 

He loves his juniors. Really, he does. But they have a level of energy that he just can’t keep up with.

Chenle shrieking his name seems to have caught Sicheng’s attention, who glances up from his phone and shoots him a look of inquiry. Dongyoung jerks his head in the direction of the hallway, to which Sicheng responds by narrowing his eyes and gesturing to the boy napping beside him. Dongyoung’s eyes nearly roll out of his head.

He pulls his focus back to the clingy brat on his elbow, smiling fondly despite himself.

“Hello, Chenle. Competitive as ever, I see,” he greets, patting the boy’s fluffy hair. Chenle pouts and gives him his best puppy eyes.

“Jisung started it!”

A squawk of indignation leaves Jisung’s throat, and soon he’s ripped Chenle off of Dongyoung and has trapped him in a headlock. The two now preoccupied with each other, Dongyoung abandons their bickering to approach Sicheng.

“Hey,” he calls softly. Sicheng hums, not sparing him a glance when Dongyoung squeezes next to him on the couch.

“Thought you were in a meeting,” he drolls. Dongyoung huffs and takes a hand through his hair.

“Yeah, about that.” Pinching Sicheng’s earlobe, he drags the man’s attention to himself and locks eyes with him. Dongyoung isn’t particularly known for being intimidating, but not because he doesn’t have the capacity. He simply doesn’t often feel the need to assert his authority. “You need to come back with me.”

For as passive as Sicheng acts, it takes him no time to start whining. “What? _Why_?!”

He grabs Dongyoung’s wrist and tries prying his hand from his ear, jostling the boy using him as a pillow in the process.

Renjun grumbles and rubs his eyes with his fists, the sleeves of his sweater big enough to hide them. Groggy and confused, he mumbles something in Mandarin to Sicheng, who responds with an uncharacteristically soft tone.

Although he isn’t quite sure of the words exchanged, Dongyoung is relieved when Renjun stands on unsteady legs and leaves the room. 

Sicheng scowls at him and smacks Dongyoung in the chest. “He hasn’t been sleeping well, you know.”

Dongyoung frowns, because he _does_ sympathize with Renjun, but he can’t dwell on that for now. “That sucks. Let’s go.”

He pulls the squirming man by his ear all the way to the stairs, finally releasing him when Sicheng promises to follow willingly. Try as he might to be scary, Dongyoung can see his glare as nothing but cute. The rest of NCT would agree, but they’ve all learned never to tell Sicheng to his face. Most have, anyways.

“Again, _why_ am I being summoned?” Sicheng questions, holding his now sore left ear. They pass by the second floor kitchen, which is vacant, and Dongyoung assumes that Kun has rejoined the fray.

“Tiebreaker.” And the man groans, but Dongyoung catches him by the wrist before he can escape. “C’mon, Win. Can’t back out, now.”

Sicheng struggles all the way until they enter the conference room, no less chaotic than when he’d left earlier. Nobody notices their entrance, so Dongyoung goes to the head of the table and slams his palm down as hard as physically possible.

Seven pairs of eyes snap towards them, and Dongyoung forces Sicheng ahead of him before speaking.

“Obviously, we aren’t getting anywhere, and we need to make a decision before the new recruit arrives on Friday. So here’s what’s going to happen: One person from each side will present their argument. Then, Sicheng,” Dongyoung raises said man’s arm, “is going to take a side. That side will then have the majority, and that’s what we’ll go with. _No one_ is going to complain about the final decision. Is that clear?”

Everyone looks like they want to argue, but none actually oppose. The two sides eventually elect Taeyong and Jaehyun to represent them, the rest exiting rather reluctantly. Dongyoung is given permission to stay and supervise, so long as he doesn’t intervene in the decision-making.

Sicheng takes a seat at the head of the table, clearly unenthusiastic about being in the middle of a war. Taeyong and Jaehyun sit on opposite sides of the table, while Doyoung leans against the wall behind Sicheng.

“Alright. Jaehyun, you’re up first,” their makeshift mediator sighs, and Jaehyun nods, steadfastly ignoring the holes Taeyong is boring into his skull.

“Of course,” he smiles at Sicheng, showing off his dimples. Technically, he should have the advantage. The two of them have known each other since before either joined the agency and have remained close friends ever since.

“We believe that having this new recruit, a former _gang member_ , enter the field with any of our units is far more risky than it is beneficial,” he begins, gauging Sicheng’s reaction. Sicheng, for his part, doesn’t give anything away.

Jaehyun continues. “Besides, our units are already cohesive as they are. Introducing a new member will disrupt their effectiveness and overall morale. There’s plenty of office work we can have him do, at least until he finishes his mandatory three years.”

“Bull _shit_ ,” Dongyoung mumbles, badly wanting to interrupt and list every reason Jaehyun is wrong. But he knows that’s in Taeyong’s hands.

Speaking of which, Sicheng nods and faces the man in question, signaling his turn to speak.

There’s a certain glint in his wide eyes, the kind he gets when he’s confident he’ll achieve victory, and Dongyoung knows they’ve already won.

“As sound as Jaehyun’s reasoning is,” he pauses to brush his white bangs from his eyes, shooting his opponent a smirk, “it’s simply not a sound long-term solution. Like it or not, this _former_ gang member will be living here just like the rest of us, and we will have to work with him, whether it be through office work _or_ field work.”

Taeyong slides a file in front of Sicheng, which contains details about the new recruit. Dongyoung has read over it himself several times.

Kim Jungwoo. Born in Sanbon-dong. In and out of gangs since the tender age of twelve. According to his testimony, he was never a part of the criminal activity by his own will. Instead, he was coerced into using his Healing powers to help their injured members.

No one is quite sure of the validity of his story, but they haven’t met him yet, either. 

“He’s a healer. That’s something we desperately need in the field, you have to admit that. It’s tiring having to rush someone to the hospital after every mission, and even minor injuries take forever to patch up in our infirmary. His powers can eliminate these issues. We need him in the field, in at least one of our units.”

And there it is. Both arguments have been given, while Sicheng carefully reads Jungwoo’s file. 

The room is silent for a few minutes after Taeyong concludes his speech, and tension slowly fills the space as Taeyong and Jaehyun stare heavily at each other. Dongyoung assumes they’re having some sort of mental conversation. Jaehyun usually asks before probing into the other members’ minds, since it’s quite a breach of privacy, but he never does with Taeyong any more. Furrowing his eyebrows, Dongyoung decides he should look into that someday.

“Alright.” Sicheng’s voice slices through the air like a knife, shocking the two debaters out of their staring match. “Taeyong’s right.”

“ _What_?!” Jaehyun shouts, shoving his chair back as he shoots to his feet. Meanwhile, Taeyong dons a smug grin and leans back, arms crossed over his chest.

Sicheng narrows his eyes but continues speaking. “There’s no reason to exclude someone beneficial from the team. I think we can all agree that someone’s background doesn’t define who they are in the present.”

Eyes widening, Dongyoung peeks at Taeyong’s stony expression. As far as he knows, their leader hasn’t told Sicheng about his past, though both he and Jaehyun are aware of it. 

In fact, Jaehyun’s face has paled at Sicheng’s statement, one that was likely meant to be generic. The man can’t possibly realize how effective that one sentence was.

“That being said,” Sicheng says when it’s clear no one will give him a response, “it might be good to give him a probation period, just so he can get used to things here.”

Everyone nods at the compromise, accepting of the suggestion.

“And I think he should have a supervisor for that time.” Sicheng stands, spinning around to face Dongyoung, who groans internally. “Doyoung, wouldn’t you be up to the task?”

With three pairs of eyes all trained on him, Dongyoung knows he can’t refuse, and so he reluctantly hums in affirmation.

The moment they step foot outside the conference room, they’re surrounded by the rest of the senior members, their expectant gazes focused entirely on Sicheng, who just rolls his eyes. Dongyoung finds his place at Taeil’s side, allowing the elder to wrap an arm around his middle.

“He’s going to be integrated into the team.”

Cheers and protests erupt around them, the pounding in his head amplifying at the burst of noise. Sicheng raises his right hand and clenches his fist, a satisfied smile gracing his lips as the yelling ceases. Dongyoung raises an eyebrow.

Unlike most of their members, Sicheng has no qualms about using his power on his teammates. Pranks, revenge, he won’t hesitate to deprive someone of their sight or hearing or, god forbid, their sense of _touch._

Right now, Dongyoung assumes he’s suppressed their sense of sound and is immensely grateful for the quiet.

“Shut up and listen,” Sicheng mouths, a fire behind his eyes that stills the aggravated crowd. He unclenches his fist and watches as the others exhale in relief. 

“When Kim Jungwoo arrives, he will be on probation from field work until our leader,” he gestures to Taeyong, “deems him ready or assigns him to a unit. But he will be a member of this team and should be treated as such.”

His tone leaves no room for argument, so aside from a few grumbles (primarily from Ten), no one complains. Yuta raises his hand, and Sicheng nods.

“Where’s he going to sleep? We don’t have any empty rooms, so someone will have to share,” he asks, carefully keeping his tone neutral. As against the new recruit as he was, Dongyoung is surprised that this is all he has to say on the matter.

Sicheng pouts, rubbing his chin in concentration. “You’re not wrong.” He glances around the circle. “Anyone feel like switching or sharing rooms?”

Dongyoung tilts his head towards Taeil, asking his boyfriend a silent question. The blonde squeezes his arm and smiles warmly, and Dongyoung takes that as confirmation.

“Actually,” he states, clearing his throat, “I could move into Taeil-hyung’s room.”

At the other members’ shocked and excited expressions, the pair have the decency to appear shy. “We’ve been wanting to room together for a while. Doyoung usually sleeps there, anyways, so—“

“ _Ew_.” Johnny fake gags, earning an elbow to the gut from Ten. Despite his growing embarrassment, Dongyoung manages a laugh.

Sicheng shakes his head and waves his hand. “Whatever. I don’t care. I don’t even know why I’m still here. You guys got what you needed, so I’m gonna go do literally anything else. Bye.”

Shortly after Sicheng leaves, Yuta trailing behind him like a puppy, the other members disperse. Taeil twirls around to face him with the biggest grin on his face, and Dongyoung melts, linking their hands together.

“Guess I should start packing, roomie,” he teases, pressing their noses together in a butterfly kiss. 

Taeil giggles. “Yep! Can’t get rid of me now.”

His boyfriend pecks him on the cheek, causing Dongyoung’s face to warm. “I wouldn’t dream of it, hyung.”

  
>>><<<  
  


Friday arrives quicker than Dongyoung would like.

Granted, moving his things into Taeil’s room had taken but one afternoon— most of his clothes and personal belongings were already there, and their rooms were right across from each other on the first floor— plus, the tension between the members almost completely disappeared after they stopped discussing the new recruit.

Dongyoung just isn’t looking forward to babysitting Jungwoo for who knows how long. 

“Time to wake up, love.”

At Taeil’s sweet voice, Dongyoung muffles his own pathetic whine by burying his face in his boyfriend’s shirt. The chest beneath him rumbles with laughter, successfully shaking him awake.

Dongyoung peels his sticky eyelids open, blinking at the blurry image of Taeil’s face.

“Why’d you have to be a morning person?” he slurs and snuggles further into his boyfriend’s green plaid pajamas. “I mean, absolutely perfect, hyung, love you, but _seriously._ A morning person, _god._ ”

He doesn’t quit griping even after they’ve showered and changed their clothes. Taeil stops trying to comfort him after about five minutes, only increasing Dongyoung’s whininess. 

They trudge into their floor’s kitchen, already populated by too many people for nine o’clock in the morning. Yuta is mixing something in a bowl, chatting with Taeyong as their leader spoons some vegetables into a skillet on the stove. Jaehyun’s helping, too, but he doesn’t appear interested in whatever their conversation is about. 

Lucas, Xiaojun, and Sicheng are all sitting at the round table near the window, their hair and clothes damp with sweat from their routine morning workout. They’re usually awake the earliest out of all of them, so their presence is no surprise.

Taeil leans up to peck Dongyoung’s cheek. “I’m gonna help out in here. Take a nap in the common room or something, okay?”

Of course, everything in Dongyoung’s being protests, his clinginess multiplied by a thousand this early in the morning, but regardless, he smooshes his lips against the corner of Taeil’s mouth and shuffles on down the hallway. As he turns the corner into the common room, his eyes drift over to where Ten and Jeno are seated, facing each other while Ten wraps the latter’s hands. They must be preparing to spar.

Dongyoung grunts some sort of greeting and flops onto the couch across from them. The two don’t spare him a glance.

“Sleep well, hyung?” Jeno asks sweetly. God bless his favorite junior for caring about his well-being.

“ ‘M tired…” he mumbles, already drifting back to dreamland.

Luckily, Jeno takes the hint that he’s not in the mood to be bothered and whispers something to Ten about sparring.

Unluckily, Ten is his partner, and he doesn’t give one shit about Dongyoung’s sleep schedule.

“Nope, you’re coming with us. We need a ref.” Ten yanks him right back up with a vice-like grip on his bicep, ignoring Dongyoung’s drawn out whine. “I don’t wanna hear it. You need to wake up anyways, _supervisor._ ”

Dongyoung groans inwardly at the reminder of his task and curses outwardly at Sicheng’s stupid idea of retaliation. Jeno stares worriedly as he follows Ten and Dongyoung downstairs to the basement.

Their training room, though taking up the entire basement, is pretty standard for their line of work— a few areas sectioned off for basic sparring matches, a larger portion dedicated to training with powers, mats and practice dummies lining the walls. There’s even a control panel for each section that can manipulate the material of the ground, since some powers require certain elements to be present to be useful. A barely-used locker room is situated near the entrance, complete with lockers (obviously), benches, showers, etc. 

One of the most major points of the room is the shooting range at the back of the space. It’s a recent addition, only a year since its creation, and the circumstances leading to them deeming it necessary were… _unpleasant_.

Dongyoung shakes his head, refusing to acknowledge _that_ particular memory.

Ten and Jeno step foot in a section designated for sparring with powers, while Dongyoung sits cross-legged just outside the perimeter. He watches them stretch for a bit, cringing at how he’ll never be quite as flexible as either of them, until Ten fiddles with the control panel.

A large yet nearly invisible net descends from the ceiling to surround the section. Dongyoung can never remember the exact material that constitutes the net, but he knows that it’s strong enough to keep any stray bursts of power from affecting the rest of the facility. Said net proceeds to glow a vibrant blue, contrasting starkly with the gray walls and flooring.

“Ready, kid?” Ten’s voice lilts through the air with a tinny tone as it bounces off the stone and metal that constitutes the basement.

Jeno smirks, his eyes disappearing into cute little crescents that don’t quite match his muscled physique. “Of course, _old man._ Try to keep up.”

Judging from the scowl that adorns Ten’s face, Dongyoung guesses his junior struck a nerve. He might feel bad at first— all the members know how insecure Ten is about his abilities, having trained the hardest of all of them to prove his worth— but then Ten is launching himself at Jeno, and Dongyoung can only focus on the sparring that follows.

Jeno braces his arms over his chest, preparing for a strike that doesn’t come as Ten glides past him, landing a powerful blow to Jeno’s spine that sends him sprawling forward. 

Ten rounds a kick that flies straight over Jeno’s head as he rolls away. His foot hits the floor, and he uses the momentum to propel himself toward the younger’s back, fist poised to strike once more.

Before the hit can connect, a transparent blue film materializes behind Jeno, and Ten’s fist connects with the boy’s forcefield instead.

Dongyoung winces at the sickening crunch that resounds throughout the room. If Ten feels the pain through his surge of adrenaline, he doesn’t show it, dodging the punch Jeno aims at his face.

Ten retreats a bit, yet ensures he remains in front of Jeno, no longer allowing the junior to turn his back. The boy’s forcefield still hovers behind him, so he won’t be vulnerable to another attack on his spine. Dongyoung knows from experience that one more blow would render him useless.

An impressed noise bubbles from Dongyoung’s throat while he watches Jeno expertly avoiding eye contact with Ten. Because once they lock eyes, the match will be over.

Then again, the match could have been over seconds after it started; Ten’s one of their top agents for a reason, and Dongyoung knows that Jeno won’t get stronger if he keeps going easy on the kid. Also, he really doesn’t wish to be underneath the basement’s harsh lighting for any longer than necessary.

“Quit holding back, Chittaphon!” he barks, vaguely wondering when he’d become so alert and engaged in the spar.

Jeno’s lip curls in annoyance, meanwhile Ten shoots Dongyoung a dirty glare.

“You told me I’m ready to fight you! And now, turns out, you’re going _easy_ on me?!” As he growls, Jeno’s shield grows to cover his sides, crackling with energy while he flexes his palms. “Why? Afraid I’ll show you up like _Johnny-hyung_ did?”

Dongyoung hears Jeno’s back hit the floor before he sees it, a meaty thump and the crack of his skull echoing through the room. Ten is straddling the younger’s chest, one hand on his throat, the other clamped in his jaw, forcing Jeno to look into eyes wild with rage.

“Relax,” Ten grits through clenched teeth, his eyes flashing silver, and watches in satisfaction as his opponent goes limp.

Dongyoung staggers to his feet, yet he can do nothing but watch as Jeno’s eyes glaze over and he succumbs to Ten’s power.

“I don’t have to explain my methods to you. I was doing you a _favor_ when you _begged_ me to spar with you,” Ten’s voice is serious and laced with rage, though to the man’s credit, he doesn’t direct any anger towards Jeno; only the sternness of a superior. “You’re not ready for my level of combat, and now you know why. Don’t ask me to train with you again.”

Ten stands and briskly goes to raise the safety netting. He seems to have forgotten Dongyoung’s presence altogether, storming upstairs without paying him any mind.

Dongyoung sighs, moving to crouch beside Jeno’s slumped form. The boy blinks his eyes sluggishly, Ten’s charm already wearing off. Somewhere in the back of his mind, Dongyoung realizes that even after being provoked, Ten had the presence of mind to reign in his power. Though he may be hot headed at times, Ten would _never_ intentionally harm one of their members.

“Don’t take it personally, ‘No. He’s been in a shitty mood recently, and now it’s just gonna get worse.” Dongyoung helps Jeno sit up, rubbing soothing circles into the boy’s back as the haze clears from his mind. 

Jeno winces when Dongyoung’s fingers trace over the back of his head. Luckily, there’s no bleeding, but he can feel a sizable lump growing on the boy’s skull. Dongyoung sighs and wraps an arm around Jeno’s waist to help him stand. “Let’s get you to the infirmary, kiddo.”

After ushering Jeno inside the elevator, Dongyoung presses the button to go to the third floor. He’s much more awake than he was when he first woke up, that’s for sure. But like hell is he going to thank Ten for that, especially since all prospects of taking a nap have completely gone out the window.

A small sniffle interrupts his quiet fuming, and Dongyoung trails his gaze over his junior’s crumpled expression. Jeno is clearly trying to keep his tears at bay, but he’s always been one of the more sensitive members. Tiny water droplets trickle down his cheeks to his chin, eyes narrowed into crescents that no longer reflect his happiness, as he hiccups and sniffs and tries to hide his emotions.

Unfortunately, despite how well-liked he is by NCT’s younger members, Dongyoung has never been very good at comforting them, so he’s painfully awkward during their time in the compact space. All he can think to do is mutter small reassurances, rubbing Jeno’s back faintly to avoid putting too much pressure on the bruises he undoubtedly has, now.

_Ding._ The silver doors slide open, revealing Jaemin and Renjun in the hallway. Their eyes widen almost comically once Dongyoung helps a distraught Jeno out of the elevator, a sheepish smile playing at his lips. 

“Nono!” Jaemin rushes to his side, gently cupping his best friend’s face and thumbing away his tears. “What happened? What’s wrong?”

“He sparred with Ten and needs the infirmary,” Dongyoung explains, mildly guilty at the alarm that dons Jaemin’s face.

“ _Christ_ , Nono! Even _I_ know only our top members spar with Ten. Like, _shit._ What the hell were you thinking?!”

If he was any other member, Dongyoung might have scolded the junior for his language, but he honestly doesn’t have the energy to care. Jaemin takes his place in supporting Jeno, while continuing to make a fuss over the boy’s condition.

Renjun guides Dongyoung away from the pair, right back into the elevator, and he’s getting kind of tired of being dragged all over the building.

“Let’s eat breakfast, hyung,” Renjun says quietly, eyes still fixed on the pair of friends even as the doors slide shut. Dongyoung simply nods, patting the junior’s hair stiffly because he’s no natural at affection when it goes to anyone other than Taeil.

“I can’t even begin to describe how good that sounds.” And if the two of them share similarly exasperated smiles, Renjun ignoring Dongyoung’s bed hair and Dongyoung ignoring the dark clouds beneath Renjun’s eyes, then no one else has to know.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello!
> 
> This is my first NCT fanfic, and actually it’s part of a larger series where each member will have their own work ^-^
> 
> I don’t have a beta reader, so please forgive any issues like typos, weird pacing, grammar/spelling mistakes... or just point them out if you want, bc I can always go back and fix it.
> 
> Thank you for reading! I have chapter two written so that’ll be up next Tuesday :D See you then~


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Could you give me a rundown of the specifics of your power?” Dongyoung asks, pulling open a desk drawer and retrieving a yellow form.
> 
> Jungwoo pouts cutely (not that Dongyoung would ever, ever call it cute), and whines in protest. “But I’ve already filled out, like, a thousand forms. Can’t you just read one of those?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Warnings: copious amounts of dowoo fluff

As it so happens, Jungwoo doesn’t arrive until after lunch. 

Dongyoung is sitting in the office portion of their headquarters— which is separated from the residential portion and filled with other government workers who handle everything that NCT don’t— chatting with the secretary, when a loud thump startles them.

He whips his head around and spots someone in a heap on the floor just outside the glass door to this particular office. Eyebrows furrowed, he shrugs at the secretary and goes to assist the poor soul that clearly just ran straight into the door.

Exiting the office, Dongyoung crouches beside the man, lightly nudging the hands that cover his face. “Are you alright, sir?”

The stranger groans pitifully as he lowers his arms, and Dongyoung is so preoccupied with the worryingly red bump on his forehead that he almost doesn’t recognize Kim Jungwoo. Dongyoung’s lip curls slightly as he scrutinizes the man’s appearance.

Despite his features being wrinkled and scrunched up in obvious pain, Jungwoo looks just as gentle as he does in the picture attached to his file. His hair is ruffled and wind-blown, framing soft cheeks, and it bounces when he sits up. He blinks a few times before grimacing and facing Dongyoung with a hint of embarrassment, a faint pink dusting his rather hollow cheeks.

“Sorry… I’m- I’m so sorry!” he stutters in a soft tone that perfectly matches the rest of his appearance. “I’m- I’m supposed to be meeting someone, but- but I wasn’t sure  _ who  _ exactly, and then the man who brought me here just  _ left me  _ in the lobby, and I- I tried explaining to the man at the front desk, but he didn’t seem too sure where I should go either, and he spent  _ forever  _ talking on the phone to someone, and I just  _ knew  _ I was gonna be late but then- then he told me I should come here and—“

“Jesus, kid, slow down,” Dongyoung eventually cuts him off and drags Jungwoo to his feet. Even if he’s annoyed by his incessant rambling, he can’t find it in himself to do anything more than sigh.

Jungwoo bows, face now fully flushed, then bends to retrieve a duffle bag he must’ve dropped when he fell. It’s new, at least, a hell of a lot newer than the baggy t-shirt and jeans he’s wearing, and Dongyoung reluctantly adds ‘Take the new guy to shop for clothes’ to the ever growing list of duties that accompany supervising Kim Jungwoo.

“So,” Dongyoung begins, waving a hand in greeting, “Kim Jungwoo-ssi? My name’s Kim Dongyoung. If you could follow me into my office, we’ll take care of a few formalities, then I can explain how things work around here.”

Immediately, the panic washes from Jungwoo’s face, and his eyes sparkle with an innocence completely unbefitting of a former gang member. “We’re both Kim’s! That’s so cool. We could be long lost cousins or something!”

Something in the way Jungwoo says that, as if Kim  _ isn’t  _ one of the most common last names in Korea, blooms a fondness in Dongyoung’s chest, an intrinsic need to  _ protect. _ He shoves the feeling down as quickly as it comes, ignoring the comment altogether and guiding Jungwoo into his office. The receptionist for this block quirks an eyebrow, having watched the whole exchange through the glass door. 

“Yuqi, do me a favor and let Taeyong know Kim Jungwoo just arrived,” he instructs her briefly, before carrying on down a small hallway of offices. 

His own office is at the end of the hall, a pink paper bunny taped to the door, proudly displaying his name. Quite frankly, it isn’t his taste at all, but when Jisung and Chenle had ambushed him with the brightly colored decoration on his birthday, Dongyoung didn’t have the heart to get rid of it. Thus, the bunny has remained right in the center of his office door. Dongyoung tries to ignore Jungwoo cooing over it.

“Oh, wow! This is so adorable. Do you have a niece or nephew or something?” Dongyoung opens his mouth to respond, but Jungwoo cuts him off with an over-dramatic gasp. “Or do  _ you  _ have a kid? Gosh, I didn’t mean to assume, you just look so young and—“

“I don’t have a kid.” He sighs, resigned to his new fate of forever cutting off Kim Jungwoo’s useless tangents. “Just some brats with annoyingly powerful aegyo.”

Jungwoo nods, though still visibly confused by the explanation. “Right…”

They take their seats on opposite sides of the desk that takes up half of the small space— it may as well, since Dongyoung only ever uses this office for occasions like the one at present— and the agent flips open Jungwoo’s tiny file with a grunt of frustration.

“First off, as I’m sure you’re aware, you have been assigned to our agency, Neo Culture Technology, as substitution for a criminal sentence,” Dongyoung rattles off, sick of going over the same information once again. “So for your first few months here, you’ll be on probation, and I’ll be your supervisor. That means you’ll join teams on missions, but won’t actively participate unless strictly accompanied by me.”

Questions and doubt mar Jungwoo’s pleasant smile, but he only nods politely.

“Could you give me a rundown of the specifics of your power?” Dongyoung asks, pulling open a desk drawer and retrieving a yellow form.

Jungwoo pouts cutely (not that Dongyoung would ever,  _ ever  _ call it cute), and whines in protest. “But I’ve already filled out, like, a  _ thousand  _ forms. Can’t you just read one of those?”

Dongyoung simply huffs and pinches the bridge of his nose. “In case you haven’t noticed, Jungwoo-ssi, the government does not keep us in the loop about everything.” He pauses to sigh, crossing his arms over his desk. “The file they gave us on you was barely two pages, and all it contained was broad information we could’ve gotten anywhere. So, please, if it’s  _ convenient  _ for you, tell me the specifics of your healing abilities.”

That seems to stop Jungwoo from stating anymore complaints, since the newbie just pales a bit and nods.

“I didn’t actually know how my healing works till some scientists examined me last week,” he starts, soft voice lilting while he plays with the hem of his t-shirt. “Apparently, I can manipulate human red blood cells. Like, accelerate their replication, change their functions, build muscle tissue… stuff like that.”

He breaks for a moment, allowing Dongyoung to jot down the information before continuing.

“If I train hard enough, I could theoretically regrow limbs and organs.” Dongyoung’s eyes widen as he peers at Jungwoo over the rim of his glasses. The latter blushes, a hand coming to rub the back of his neck. “Not yet, though. Right now, the most I can do is seal up large flesh wounds. It’s within my capabilities to repair internal injuries, as well, but it takes a lot of concentration to find the areas that need healing in that case.”

Dongyoung hums, impressed by the sheer potential of Jungwoo’s abilities. Healing powers are rare as it is, particularly those that can manipulate blood cells and repair physical injuries. No wonder so many gangs had wanted to hoard Jungwoo for themselves.

“Well, that’s quite the power you have there. Now I know why SM placed you with us. Locking you up would be a waste of a useful talent.” Dongyoung stands with the form in hand and rounds the desk, gesturing for Jungwoo to follow.

“Yeah, a waste…” Something in Jungwoo’s tone sounds sad, but when Dongyoung turns to glimpse at the other, his face is no less bright than it’s been since he arrived. He shrugs it off and leads Jungwoo out of the office, fully intent on getting the “tour” out of the way so the recruit won’t be compelled to trail after him like a lost dog.

By the time they’ve passed through the corridor that separates the residential half from the business half of the building, Jungwoo has pointed out seven new-ish looking coffee machines, an intern with bright orange hair, and “just the cutest, most handsome man I’ve ever seen, Dongyoung-hyung, seriously!”

“It’s Doyoung.”

“Hm?” Jungwoo startles, clearly not expecting any response after Dongyoung steadfastly ignoring his one-sided conversation. Nonetheless, a joyous smile breaks out across his lips. “Oh! That man’s name is Doyoung? That’s so similar to—“

“My name. Not his,” he corrects, absentmindedly patting the boy’s head with one hand while the other inputs the passcode to the secured door that leads to the residential portion. “Pretty much everyone calls me Doyoung, so you might as well, too.”

Jungwoo’s mouth forms an ‘O’ in understanding, and they continue to the first floor of the residency.

“So,” Dongyoung claps, gesturing about as the hallway opens up into the first floor’s spacious common area, “this is where all of NCT’s field agents, including you now, I guess, live on a permanent basis. Other people, even agents, aren’t allowed inside, so don’t go inviting anyone in here.”

“I really don’t think that’ll be a problem,” Jungwoo responds, a flicker of gloom passing by his features once more. Dongyoung doesn’t dwell on it.

“Good. Agents are technically allowed to  _ have _ other residences outside of here, like an apartment or something, but you’re required to live here most of the time. I think some members just have other houses so they have a place to invite friends over. Or so they have a place to have sex without being interrupted.”

“Hyung!” Jungwoo squeaks, shielding his probably flustered expression.

The crude phrasing is so worth it when Dongyoung notices Jungwoo’s ears and neck flush as red as a fire engine. He can’t help the short burst of laugh that slips past at the sight. Not for the first time, he wonders how this kid could’ve grown up surrounded by so many vile people, so much impurity, yet still remain so innocent.

“Sorry, sorry!” he snorts, not sincere in the slightest. Jungwoo juts his lips out in a pout.

“That’s gross, Dongyoung-hyung,” he states, and the other refrains from correcting Jungwoo about his name, deciding to let it be. “You can’t just  _ say  _ that kind of stuff.”

“Okay, point taken,” Dongyoung relents, proceeding with the tour. “The layout of the first four floors are pretty much the same, but we’ll go through all of them, just in case. Then, we’ll check out the basement. Is that okay?”

He waits for Jungwoo’s approval, even though the newbie doesn’t have much of a choice otherwise. Still, Jungwoo blinks a couple times, until realizing that he’s being asked for permission. He’s hesitant, cautious when he gives his consent, as if the entire premise of having a choice in the matter is a foreign concept.

Dongyoung thinks with a heavy heart that it probably is.

“Right now, we’re on the first floor, which is designated for our ‘U’ unit. But don’t let that fool you— everyone pretty much goes anywhere they want in the building. The only reason this is the ‘U’ floor is because this is where ‘U’ have their meetings for missions and such.” 

“What’s ‘U’?” Jungwoo asks. A valid question.

Dongyoung gathers his thoughts and tries to explain their system in a way that makes sense. “NCT as a whole is made up of twenty- excuse me, twenty- _ one _ members, so it’s not feasible for everyone to go on every mission. So, to make things easier, we’ve been divided into separate units based on our skill sets and other aspects. Of course, some members belong to multiple units, but it makes deciding who to send on certain missions a hell of a lot easier.”

He can practically hear the gears in Jungwoo’s head turning while he processes the information, but eventually, he does seem to understand. “What unit will I be a part of?”

Dongyoung hums thoughtfully, pinching his chin in concentration. “We’ve officially decided to have you work in 127. That unit gets the majority of missions, but they’re not as dangerous as the ones ‘U’ gets. It’s a good starting point for you, since you’re a little too advanced to be in Dream, according to SM.”

Unfortunately, the unfamiliar terminology doesn’t do much other than further confuse the newbie.

“Don’t worry. I promise it’ll make more sense if you just let me show you around.” Jungwoo accepts this, and his features smooth out.

Dongyoung motions widely around the common area, indicating a few different seating areas. Black leather sofas are spaced around a large television, with a billiards table close by. Overflowing bookshelves take up an entire side of one of the gray walls, scattered armchairs and couches nearby as a makeshift reading area. The back wall is only half of a wall, giving way to a long hallway, lined with the kitchen and a few bedrooms.

The second they pass through the archway into the kitchen, Dongyoung is attacked by an overly affectionate tree: aka Lucas. He damn near growls (yes,  _ growls _ ) at the unwanted touch, but it’s gone just as soon as it came. Dongyoung has zero time to warn Jungwoo before the poor kid’s being poked and prodded at by the excitable agent.

“You’re the new guy, right? Cool! What’s your power? Must be something impressive, right? Or did you get recruited because you’re still badass despite having a lame power? Nah, you’re way too soft for that. Oh, what’s your name?”

If Dongyoung hadn’t spent the better part of two hours with the newbie, he might have been surprised when Jungwoo perfectly kept up with all of Lucas’s borderline interrogation. But this is Jungwoo, and the kid clearly has enough energy to match with the Cantonese boy.

“I’m Jungwoo! And I don’t really know how impressive my power is. I can heal people, like cuts and broken bones and things like that.” 

“Heal?” Lucas pauses for a moment to remember the word, and when it finally clicks, his eyes shine with admiration. “Really? That’s amazing! I’ve always admired people who can heal others. That  _ is  _ impressive.”

Jungwoo, for his part, has the decency to appear bashful, shyly thanking Lucas for the praise. Dongyoung lets them continue speaking for a moment while he swipes a bottle of strawberry milk from the fridge.

“What’s your power?” Jungwoo questions, giving Lucas a onceover as if he’ll just be able to intuit the boy’s ability. 

Lucas positively glows. “Here, give me your hand.” He extends his hand, allowing Jungwoo to lay his hand on it, palm up. 

Carefully, the agent envelops Jungwoo’s hand with both of his own. Dongyoung watches as Jungwoo begins to shiver, eyes wide as his body temperature lowers drastically. Before the newbie’s skin can start turning blue, Lucas exhales and squeezes his hand tighter. Jungwoo’s skin regains its healthy flush, and the boy sweats a bit at the sudden change in temperature.

“ _ Woah _ ,” Jungwoo breathes, astonished by the display of power. Lucas grins proudly.

“I can absorb and release heat. So I can either freeze stuff  _ or  _ set it on fire. Cool, right?”

Jungwoo keeps on staring at Lucas like he’s hung the stars in the sky, and Dongyoung rolls his eyes at how easily the boy’s admiration is bought. He takes Jungwoo by the elbow, ushering him from the kitchen.

“Come on, Jungwoo-ssi. No need to stay around here and make this pig’s head any bigger,” he grumbles, though neither of the other two are phased in the slightest.

“I’ll see you around, Jungwoo. Welcome to the team!” 

Dongyoung pushes against Jungwoo’s upper back to keep him moving, shoulders slumping in relief when he sees Lucas’s form retreat into the kitchen. “You can get acquainted with everyone on your own time, but right now, I need to ensure you don’t get lost in this place.”

Ignoring Dongyoung’s pleas, Jungwoo glances around the corridor curiously. “Where is everyone, anyways? You said there’s, like, twenty people living here, right? But we’ve only run into Lucas.”

“It’s a big building.” Dongyoung shrugs, halting in front of his old bedroom. “Lucas has probably got no one to hang out with right now, since he eats when he’s bored or lonely. I imagine some of the others are doing office work or training.” 

He pushes open the bedroom door, for a second expecting it to look the same as it had a week prior, before he moved in with Taeil. As it is, the room is pretty barren, the only things left are the baby blue sheets and pillows on the bed. The room itself isn’t small by any stretch of the imagination. It’s big enough to fit a queen-sized bed, two nightstands, a small desk, and a wardrobe. To the left, a door leads to the shared bathroom that connects this room with Lucas’s.

Once he faces Jungwoo, he sees the boy’s eyes are wide as saucers, his mouth agape while he takes in the room.

“This used to be my room, but it’s yours now.” Jungwoo looks like his head is going to implode.

“ _ Mine _ ?” he asks, dumbfounded. At Dongyoung’s confirming nod, Jungwoo seems ready to faint. “ But- but it’s so  _ big! _ ” A muffled shout comes from Lucas’s room that sounds suspiciously like “that’s what she said.”

“You can leave your duffle bag here before we keep going. Are you getting the rest of your things brought in later?”

Jungwoo winces, but just barely. Dongyoung wouldn’t have even caught the movement if he hadn’t been paying attention.

“Uh- I- I don’t have anything- this is all- I mean-“ He’s struggling to get the words out, and Dongyoung isn’t heartless, so he doesn’t make the man try any harder to come up with an explanation.

“Never mind, forget I asked. Why don’t we continue the tour, yeah?” Dongyoung suggests, running a soothing hand across the boy’s shoulders. That calms Jungwoo down enough to smile gratefully. Before Dongyoung can begin to exit the room, Jungwoo clasps his hand, holding him back. Furrowing his brows, Dongyoung returns to the recruit’s side. “What is it?”

Jungwoo bites his lip timidly, vastly different from the outgoing and optimistic persona he’s had so far. “What’s your power, hyung?”

Dongyoung laughs, having expected something much more pressing judging by Jungwoo’s mannerisms. Frowning, the newbie crosses his arms and tries to hide his embarrassment. “I’m serious!”

“Okay,” Dongyoung wheezes, finally getting the giggles out of his system, and honestly, he can’t recall the last time he laughed that hard. “My power is age manipulation. Like, I can reverse something’s age until it returns to its most basic form. I can make stuff age quicker, too. Obviously, it’s easier to do on smaller objects, and I’d  _ never _ use my power on a person, but still pretty powerful.”

Jungwoo’s awestruck expression strokes Dongyoung’s ego just a tiny bit. He looks even more enraptured than he was with Lucas’s power (the older’s pride swelled at that thought).

“Why’d you ask, though?” Dongyoung is perplexed by the question’s randomness, and Jungwoo’s skin blushes red at being called out.

“I- I thought…” The red of his cheeks turns a shade darker. “I thought you must be an empath or something, because you can calm me down so easily.” Jungwoo stares into Dongyoung’s eyes with unashamed fondness. “You make me feel safe, hyung.”

And, oh, there’s that feeling. That feeling he gets whenever he’s sparring with Jeno and the boy lands a powerful hit. That feeling he gets whenever Mark tries to help in the kitchen and doesn’t actually screw anything up. That feeling he gets whenever Jaehyun’s had a bad day and seeks him out for comfort.

Dongyoung is a very strong man to be able to resist giving Jungwoo a hug right then and there.

“You are safe, Jungwoo. From now on, we’re all going to keep you safe.” Dongyoung is a little shocked to realize he means it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m sorry if this chapter feels boring ;^; I just really wanted to get most of the exposition out of the way, especially since this entire fic is the gateway into this series.
> 
> But honestly, I’ll never get tired of writing NCT fluff, and this feels like a good warm up before I start bringing in the angst <3
> 
> Thank you for reading! If you want to leave a comment, I’d really appreciate the feedback~ Have a good week :D
> 
> (PS please forgive me if this looks like trash, I’m writing/posting all of this from my phone bc my laptop died last month RIP)


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And so, Dongyoung sits in front of the changing room in some boutique in a nice but uncrowded outdoor mall, contemplating how he became the babysitter of not one, but five fellow agents.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter was originally going to have much more, but i decided to make this more of a filler chapter. next chapter will be more exciting, i promise!

“You know, you don’t have to try on _every single thing,”_ Dongyoung gripes from where he sits outside of the changing room, a bundle of clothes already piled in the basket in front of him.

“Yes, he does!” Donghyuck calls, having insisted on helping Jungwoo into yet another meticulously selected outfit.

Ever since Jungwoo’s joined the agency, he’s won the hearts of almost everyone in the group. Taeil, upon meeting the newbie, immediately declared to Dongyoung that they were adopting the boy and proceeded to dote on Jungwoo for the entire day. Taeyong, being the good leader he is, has overseen most of Jungwoo’s training (while Dongyoung sits to the side and _supervises,_ of course), and has, unsurprisingly, taken a shine to the man as well. 

Even Mark, notorious for his distaste of skinship, has begun allowing Jungwoo to cuddle him in the common room. Donghyuck was very verbal about his jealousy once he found out, despite latching onto Jungwoo, himself, at any given opportunity.

The only person who has a clear dislike for the new recruit, it seems, is Ten.

Ten purposefully interacted with Jungwoo once, inviting the newbie for a private training session. Dongyoung protested vehemently, but Jungwoo was stubborn and convinced him to let them spar. Ten had pinned him to the mat at least a dozen times, only stopping when Jungwoo landed strangely on his arm, a nasty crack resounding through the basement.

( “Consider this your welcome,” he said, cat-like eyes trained to where Jungwoo lay limp on the ground, coughing and clutching his ribs.

“Ten, what the hell?!”

“People don’t improve if you baby them, Doyoung. You should help him to the infirmary before he ends up in the hospital. ” 

Jungwoo assured Dongyoung that he’d be okay in a few minutes and, sure enough, Jungwoo was fully healed in no time, all traces of his previous injuries gone.)

After watching Jungwoo wear the same three old, ill-fitting outfits for two weeks straight, Dongyoung announced that he’d be taking him on a shopping trip the second they had a break. In hindsight, he probably should’ve waited until the two of them were alone.

Because Donghyuck took the liberty of inviting himself on their outing— “No offense, hyung, but you have about as much fashion sense as an old boot”— followed by Lucas, who’s always looking for reasons to leave headquarters. Xiaojun somehow overheard their plans, despite not being present when Dongyoung had mentioned it, and tagged along so he could purchase some new tech, and Yangyang inserted himself into the trip because Xiaojun was going. 

And so, Dongyoung sits in front of the changing room in some boutique in a nice but uncrowded outdoor mall, contemplating how he became the babysitter of not one, but _five_ fellow agents.

“Hyung!” Lucas bounds towards him, emerging from the racks he’d been buried in since they arrived. He proudly displays a tank top he managed to find, a fluorescent green one with unnecessarily large arm-holes and the phrase _Call Me Monster_ scrawled on the front in equally fluorescent orange font. It’s the single most hideous thing Dongyoung has ever seen.

“Jungwoo’s not going to wear that,” is his response, to which Lucas stares at him like he just grew another head.

“Duh, hyung. This is for me.”

“It’s awful.”

“It’s _perfect.”_

“Lucas, no.”

“Lucas _yes.”_

“Hyung!”

Dongyoung barely suppresses the groan that threatens to escape him when Yangyang bursts into the boutique, Xiaojun trailing behind with boxes upon boxes of new tech precariously balanced in his arms. At the same time, Jungwoo finally stumbles out of the tiny changing room, Donghyuck following with a triumphant smirk. 

Yangyang pauses beside Dongyoung to let out an appreciative whistle, shooting Donghyuck a thumbs up after studying Jungwoo. “Woah, this is, like, really cute, Haechan,” he compliments, his words being translated into choppy phrases by the device in Dongyoung’s ear.

The translators are a godsend, really— they were created and continuously modified by Xiaojun, obviously— since they have quite a few foreign members in their agency. Most of them know at least enough Korean to understand basic phrases, but Xiaojun, Yangyang, and Hendery had only transferred to NCT from a Chinese agency less than a year ago, so translators are necessary for their daily lives.

“I know, I know,” Donghyuck sighs, flicking a lock of hair from his eyes, “I’m amazing. A true fashion genius, the most beautiful and talented agent-”

“We get it, Donghyuck,” Dongyoung decides to cut him off before his ego can inflate too much.

Admittedly, the outfit _is_ pretty cute. The top is a fluffy blue sweater with sleeves long enough to cover his palms, and the pants are washed-out skinny jeans that are much too tight, in Dongyoung’s opinion (though he pointedly does _not_ let his eyes linger on Jungwoo’s legs). 

Lucas obviously doesn’t have an ounce of shame, however, and gazes far too long at Jungwoo’s thighs for it to be considered appropriate.

Jungwoo is thoroughly flustered by the amount of eyes on him, if his flushed cheeks are anything to go by. Rather than shying away into the changing room, like Dongyoung expects, he does a little twirl for his audience and strikes a pose, reveling in the small round of applause he receives.

What has become increasingly clear to Dongyoung over the past weeks is that Jungwoo isn’t the shy, clumsy, nervous wreck he’d been when he first arrived. Sure, he gets a bit reserved and overwhelmed in crowds of strangers (the first game night he’d attended had been a hell Dongyoung never wishes to relive), but his real personality is far more flirty and outgoing than he’d assumed. Jungwoo thrives on the attention the other agents give him and can’t stand the thought of anyone disliking him.

The strong urge he had to protect Jungwoo remains, but Dongyoung has to admit that he’s happy Jungwoo has come out of his shell. At least he doesn’t have to supervise him at all times in their headquarters, anymore.

After nodding once in approval, Dongyoung raises his hand and points to the watch on his wrist. “Great, now that you’re done, we should _really_ get going. Yong’s gonna be mad if we miss dinner. _Again.”_

Donghyuck has the decency to appear guilty, but his sheepish act is ruined by his snarky reply. “Sure, grandpa. Who even wears a watch anymore?” The kid dashes out of the boutique before Dongyoung can catch him.

Dongyoung huffs and shoves Jungwoo back inside the dressing room. “Hurry up and change, Woo.”

Out of the corner of his eye, he catches Yangyang glance at him curiously, and he realizes that he just used the nickname he’s been calling Jungwoo exclusively in his head and in private. Dongyoung’s not dense; he knows he’s a little dry and sarcastic with the other members. Hell, he doesn’t even call _Taeil_ by pet names around the others. So it’s no wonder why they’d be confused by his sudden affection towards the newbie.

_Whatever._ He doesn’t need to explain himself. Still, nothing can prevent his ears from turning a bright red at being caught. _Stupid ears._

“Dongyoung-hyung! I think these jeans are a size too small. I need help taking them off!”

Well, _that_ doesn’t help his blush go down at all. Not because he’s having inappropriate thoughts, of course. He and Taeil are both flaming asexuals, thank you very much.

Nope. It’s just the howling laughter that erupts from behind him as a result.

“Coming,” he mumbles, eye twitching in irritation. All Dongyoung wants to do is pay for these clothes (with his government-issued credit card, obviously— there’s no chance Dongyoung will be using his personal card for this overpriced fluff), so he can end this godforsaken shopping trip and go home, where he’ll snuggle Taeil until he’s recharged.

Dongyoung pushes past the curtain into the changing room while trying to ignore Lucas’s offers to take his place. _God, end me now._

>>><<<

When Dongyoung first met Taeil, he was fresh out of college and much more excited to be part of an actual agency. Back then, their residential area was much less used— in fact, only two floors were officially in use at that point, just enough to be comfortable for eight active members. They weren’t required to live in headquarters, and since Dongyoung already lived in Seoul, he decided to continue residing in his small apartment with three roommates.

The only members who _did_ live in their base were Taeyong, Ten, Taeil, and Johnny. Jaehyun was still in his parents’ house, while Yuta and Hansol had their own place somewhere in the heart of the city, near Itaewon. Or maybe they just said that to brag. Dongyoung wouldn’t know. He never got the chance to visit.

Despite everyone still being quite close, most of their interactions were contained to work-related meetings or training sessions. Even though Dongyoung met the other agents less than a week into his employment, he took at least a month to open up to any of them. 

So, no, Dongyoung would not describe his relationship with Taeil as “love at first sight,” like Ten enjoys claiming. Instead, they had more of a slow build. A few shy touches, the occasional casual flirting. Dongyoung had his reservations, of course; he was aware of his asexuality, and most people didn’t find that appealing in a lover.

When he bluntly told Taeil about his orientation, he most definitely did not expect the man to burst into a fit of laughter, before declaring he, too, was uninterested in sex. And, well, if Dongyoung hadn’t been smitten before, he certainly was, now.

Perhaps, their relationship would’ve continued its steady momentum if not for the events that took place eight months after he was recruited. 

By that point, Kun and Sicheng had joined the agency, though their training was separate due to the language barrier. Their first mission with the pair had gone successfully, so he, Taeyong, Yuta, Taeil, and Jaehyun had taken them out for dinner. The memories are hazy, but Dongyoung thinks they were probably happy, if not a bit awkward with each other.

At 11:39, Yuta got a call from the hospital. They all went with him, trying to reassure him in his distraught state. Nothing seemed to work. Sicheng was the one who finally tugged Yuta into the backseat of Taeil’s car, a lanky arm wrapped around his shoulders.

At 11:50, they were told to wait while the doctors operated on Hansol. Yuta was still hysterical, unable to speak with the officers as he cried into Sicheng’s shirt, the recruit doing his best to comfort him. Taeyong spoke with the police, instead. Yuta and Hansol’s apartment had been broken into, and a neighbor called 911 after hearing Hansol’s screams.

At 1:00, Taeyong told Jaehyun to take Kun, Sicheng, and Dongyoung back to their base and inform Johnny and Ten of the situation. Dongyoung wanted to protest, wanted to stay by Taeil’s side because he might not have had the deepest connection with Hansol, but they were still _friends._ The fight in him died when he saw how Yuta curled into Taeil’s chest in the hospital chairs, broken. _Hurt._ As if he was the one dying instead of Hansol.

At 3 a.m., long after Johnny had driven himself, Jaehyun, and Ten back to the hospital, Dongyoung received a call from Taeil. Hansol had died during surgery.

From that point onward, SM has enforced the rule that all agents must permanently reside in NCT’s heavily secured headquarters.

An older agency, EXO, ended up capturing those responsible for Hansol’s death, though the mastermind behind the attack, Choi Kwangho, apparently dropped off the face of the earth. There was a trial, though Dongyoung doesn’t remember much about it. All he could see was Yuta’s murderous glare as he watched each criminal be sentenced to a life in prison.

Everyone was in mourning for well over a few months, and while no one ever truly returned to the people they’d been before, they did start to move on. 

Dongyoung felt selfish for worrying about whether or not this would affect Taeil’s feelings for him, especially after seeing Yuta’s breakdown. None of the other agents knew much about Yuta and Hansol’s relationship, if it was even romantic at all. They could’ve just been best friends, though that didn’t sound quite right. Either way, they were obviously very close. 

Part of Dongyoung dreaded that level of emotional attachment. What if something happened to Taeil? Would he be able to bounce back, like Yuta? He doubted it.

A larger part of him, though, wanted to take the risk, anyways. Because falling in love with Taeil was inevitable, and he couldn’t reverse his own feelings. Dongyoung hesitated to ask Taeil if he felt the same— he didn’t want to pressure Taeil into anything after such a traumatic experience, and Dongyoung knew he’d be okay with loving him from afar, if that’s what he wanted.

But after a particularly grueling mission, one with too many close calls and variables, Taeil dragged him into his room and embraced him, squeezing Dongyoung’s body like it would fly away if he didn’t hold on tightly enough.

“You have to survive,” he’d whispered into his shoulder, and Dongyoung had been grateful that Taeil wasn’t crying. “Dongyoung, _please,_ promise me you’ll survive. Please, I don’t— I think I’ll die if anything happens to you.”

“Hyung,” he spoke softly, pressing his lips to Taeil’s forehead, nothing more than skin on skin, an echo of reassurance, “nobody can promise that.”

Dongyoung was quick to hush the helpless noise that the other croaked out, petting his head gently. “Nobody can promise that. _You_ can’t promise that. All we can do is make the most of what we have, right now.”

He jerked and flinched back when Taeil pinched his side, feigning annoyance, even though he was relieved that he looked significantly less serious than before.

“You’re so cheesy, it’s disgusting.” Dongyoung couldn’t help but laugh at the accusation, making exaggerated kissy faces as he chased Taeil around the room. They giggled and ran until they wore themselves out and collapsed onto Taeil’s bed. They lay in silence for a few moments, breaths heaving and faces flush.

Taeil finally opens his mouth. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

Dongyoung didn’t even hesitate, and it was so cliche and cheesy and everything Dongyoung claimed he hated (he does hate telling others how their relationship began for precisely this reason), but that was the night he gained a boyfriend, so he can’t complain too much. Besides, what he said was and still is the truth.

He loves Moon Taeil.

>>><<<

“You ready, Woo?”

Jungwoo looks up from his seat at the conference table, eyes frantic but smiling nonetheless. The rest of 127 sits around the table, idly chattering as they wait for Taeyong to arrive.

Dongyoung suppresses a laugh at how evident Jungwoo’s nerves are. It’s been two months since Jungwoo’s recruitment, and just one week ago, he was informed that he’d be joining 127 for his first official mission. Obviously, he’s supposed to stay by Dongyoung’s side at all times, and he is to avoid combat unless strictly necessary, but this is still a huge step for the newbie. 

“I’m fine, hyung. Totally fine, completely fine,” Jungwoo sputters, clearly attempting to convince himself more than Dongyoung.

Donghyuck snorts from his place across the table, which earns him a half-hearted slap on the arm from Johnny. “Hey, hyung, I think he’s fine. I mean, not as fine as me, duh, I’m hot as hell, but Woo-hyung’s pretty fine, I guess.”

Anyone else would’ve thrown the boy a dirty look for his teasing, but Jungwoo actually seems to relax, tension easing just the slightest bit. If Donghyuck notices the change, he doesn’t show it and simply continues poking fun at the other agents.

Dongyoung fixes Jungwoo with a questioning gaze, to which he returns a gentle smile. “I’m really okay, hyung. Just nervous,” he says, softer, for only Dongyoung to hear.

Something achingly familiar is reflected in Jungwoo’s eyes as the boy links their hands. The door slams open before Dongyoung can take the time to analyze it, and soon, he’s forgotten about the look entirely.

Taeyong marches right up to the head of the table, already dressed in his field gear, since this is just a quick pre-mission meeting to go over their plans one last time. 

Every agent has their own specialized outfit and gear for missions, the only consistency being that every piece of clothing is black. Dongyoung’s, for instance, includes a bulletproof vest with a turtleneck underneath, as well as a face mask and combat boots, while Jungwoo wears a heavier bulletproof jacket with a high neck, thick pants tucked into his own pair of combat boots.

“Alright, 127,” Taeyong addresses the room, and everyone quiets in respect. He’s in leader-mode right now, and he won’t be back to normal until they’re back at the agency after a successful mission. “We’ve got to be in the vans, on the road in thirty, so let’s keep this brief. First off, Winwin?”

Sicheng stands from his seat, casually adjusting his fingerless gloves before speaking.

“Since I’m the only one who’s actually been here before, I’m going in first to make sure nothing’s changed. Once I’ve done a sweep of the warehouse, I’ll give the all-clear for Taeyong and Johnny to join me.”

“I’ll be maintaining a group mind-link throughout the entire mission,” Jaehyun reminds the group. “But, if for some reason we get cut off, use the earpieces connected to your masks.”

Jaehyun’s telepathy has always been the safest form of communication, given only those with telepathic powers would be able to “hack” their mind-link and, even then, Jaehyun’s mental shield is nearly impenetrable. 

Still, there have been times (although Dongyoung struggles to recall a specific incident) where their link has been compromised or Jaehyun was incapacitated, which is why Xiaojun and Hendery designed masks that double as communicators. Whoever stays behind in the van will have to activate the link, but the system hasn’t failed them yet.

“The rest of you need to be in position _before_ Johnny and I go in. Yuta, Jaehyun, Taeil, you three cover the east entrance. Doyoung, Jungwoo, you guys take the west. No one goes in or out except us. Jae, you and Yuta come in _only_ if we need back up. Mark?” Taeyong turns towards the boy, who grins proudly in turn.

“I’ll be up in the watchtower after incapacitating the guard there, so I can keep an eye out from above. I’m back up to the back up, yo.”

Donghyuck scoffs and gives Mark a dramatic eye roll. The latter hardly seems phased, a mischievous grin finding a place across his lips. “And what’s _your_ job, Duckie?”

With a sneer at his sickly sweet tone, Donghyuck blinks, a brilliant ball of light shooting straight from his chest to Mark’s eyes, causing him to hiss and scrub furiously at his face. “Jesus, you brat!”

“Not Jesus, just Donghyuck.”

“You—”

“Enough, guys. Please,” Taeyong groans, and the pair shut up, despite continuing to glare at each other. “Hyuck, tell me what your job is.” Donghyuck turns his glare on Taeyong. “Just humor me. Please?”

He rolls his eyes, but proceeds. “My job is to stay in the van and run tech, which is the most _boring_ and _stupid_ job on the planet. Seriously, I just get to sit there and watch you guys be all cool, like a fucking loser—”

“Language,” Taeil interrupts.

“— like a _freaking_ loser. Why can’t the newbie do it?”

“He needs to be with me.” Dongyoung slings an arm around Jungwoo’s shoulders. “And you’re a little too flashy for this mission, anyways.”

“I refuse to let my gorgeous abilities be smothered.”

“Exactly.”

“Fuck you.”

“Language.”

“I’m your _hyung,_ you little shit.”

_“Language.”_

“I don’t know why you even try, Taeil. Doyoung’s the whole reason Hyuck even knows most of these words, you know.”

Dongyoung practically launches himself across the table in his attempt to strangle Johnny, but his whole body is suspended in midair before he can land. Jaehyun has his hand lazily extended in his direction, and he looks less than amused.

“Put me _down,_ Jaehyun,” he growls. Said man just shrugs and pulls his hand back. Gravity immediately takes hold of Dongyoung, and his body drops harshly onto the conference table.

“Great. Great, great, great,” Taeyong huffs, just the slightest cracks in his leader persona beginning to show. Dongyoung wonders if he’s overworking himself, again. The stress has obviously been getting to him, but there’s nothing anyone can really do to help, since he refuses to share his burdens with the rest of the team. “If everyone’s done with petty arguments, it’s time to go. Make sure you have all your gear and weapons with you.”

Dongyoung grumbles, peeling himself off the table and adjusting the straps on his vest.

“Dongyoung-hyung?” He peers over at Jungwoo, whose expression betrays how anxious he is. “Everything’s gonna be okay, right?”

Rather than agreeing, Dongyoung offers what he hopes is a comforting smile, patting Jungwoo’s shoulder beneath the thick padding of his jacket. “We’ve done this plenty of times before. Just stick to the plan, and try not to be so on edge. You’re gonna do great, Woo.”

It’s not the answer Jungwoo wants to hear, he can tell, but the boy does let the tension drain from his shoulders before giving Dongyoung a curt nod.

Dongyoung keeps an arm around Jungwoo even as they walk out of the room, because he deserves to know that Dongyoung would never leave him on his own.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So yeah, this chapter was going to include the mission, as well, but I ended up writing well over 4000 words for just the first half of the mission, and that's a little much for this particular fic. So this just ended up being filler (cute filler, I hope?)
> 
> I really wanted to get Doil's backstory out there, though. I'm sorry for killing off Hansol ;^; but it was necessary~ I'll go into more depth about it in some of the other members' fics. This one is told from Doyoung's perspective, and since he didn't have that emotional attachment to Hansol, it felt appropriate to only give the bare minimum of information. Oh, and Doil ace kings? I think: yes. (Doyoung is demi-romantic and Taeil is bi-romantic in this AU, if you were wondering).
> 
> Not that anyone cares, but I feel like I'm really bad at keeping things interesting? Like, I struggle with choosing what information is necessary for the reader to know, then conveying that info in a smooth way. So I'm sorry if some places feel choppy or out of nowhere :"(
> 
> Anyways, thank you for reading <3 (if you feel comfortable leaving a comment or kudos, I really appreciate that) ((oh also I'm thinking of making a Twitter account where I can post updates and like other stuff about my fics? maybe stay tuned if you're into that))


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